The Tracks Of Our Tears
by MildeAmasoj
Summary: This is my collection of one-shots. They could be anything, AUs, canon, non-canon, coda to episodes, etc. Rating may change. Chapter 3: Slight AU to 4x13. What if Gwen, worried about Merlin, followed him in the caves when he went to confront Agravaine?
1. Chapter 1: A Friend in Need

**Hello!**

**I had this idea while re-watching "The Fires of Idirsholas"; when Merlin was hugging Morgana as she gasped, I thought: "Hey! I could write something like that with Arthur holding Merlin!" **

**I didn't want Merlin to be poisoned for the umpteenth time... So here it is. **

**Title: "A Friend in Need"**

**Category: Gen (Canon)**

**Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Merlin, Gaius, the knights**

**Rating/Warnings: T for blood**

**Summary: The usual patrol takes a different twist when Arthur, Merlin and the knights are attacked by Morgana's mercenaries. But when a bandit holds a dagger to Merlin's throat and Arthur makes a mistake, they all realize that a friend needs their help.**

**DISCALIMER: I still don't own Merlin, but when I do, I'll make an alternate season 5. I only own my minuscule brain and my iPhone. No, wait. My dad owns it. *sighs***

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**Chapter 1: ****A Friend in Need**

* * *

When King Arthur had declared to his knights that he planned to go on a patrol that day (meaning that Merlin would have to tag along as well), he certainly didn't expect things to go so terribly.

It had started as the usual patrol, with him giving orders, Leon chatting with Elyan, Percival staying quiet as he listened to Gwaine's inane prattle and Merlin whining about absolutely nothing.

"Don't be such a girl, Merlin," he exclaimed, turning his head to look at the servant.

The younger man scowled at him. "Arthur, we all know that place is dangerous."

The blonde rolled his eyes. "The Valley of the Fallen Kings isn't dangerous. Seriously, Merlin, you're acting like a girl's petticoat. Stop whining."

The warlock huffed in annoyance. "Why does it always have to be the Valley of the Fallen Kings? Why not another place? That stupid, supercilious and arrogant prat..." he muttered under his breath.

Arthur turned to look at him again. "What was that?"

"I said that I completely agree with that great, extremely intelligent and not at all arrogant king," he answered, a cheeky grin on his face.

The blonde rolled his eyes. "I didn't know you thought so highly of me," he joked, his tone sarcastic.

Merlin grinned. "I don't," he replied, sticking his tongue at him.

Arthur opened his mouth to throw him a scathing retort, but he was interrupted by the sound of many footsteps coming towards them.

Bandits.

He unsheathed his sword and dismounted, looking around to be certain that everyone understood the situation. He was surprised when he saw Merlin with a dagger in his hand, ready to face an eventual opponent.

The bandits reached them quickly, attacking the group and yelling as they fought savagely.

Arthur cut down man by man, trying to end their lives as quickly as possible and in the less painful way. They were still humans, after all.

He was about to stab another bandit in the heart when a voice caught his attention.

"Lay your weapons down, or the boy dies."

The king whipped around to find a huge man, around Percival's size, holding a knife to Merlin's throat.

_Merlin_.

Fear began to seep through his heart as he understood the danger his servant was currently in. He lowered his sword on the ground and nodded at his knights to do the same.

"What do you want?" he asked, trying to calm his racing heart.

The bandit smirked. "Our mistress wants you and your knights to come with us."

So they weren't simple bandits. They were _mercenaries_, apparently following the orders of a woman. And Arthur had a vague idea of who it could be...

"Morgana," he spat, venomously. He held no love for that evil and emaciated woman who was his sister. His childhood friend, the girl he had so dearly cared for, was long dead, killed in the battle against magic.

The man's smirk widened, his yellow teeth resembling those of an animal. "Yes, _my lord_. The lady is waiting for you with baited breath," he said, mockingly.

Arthur breathed in deeply. He couldn't follow those men, or he would fall into Morgana's grasp. But could he let his serv- no, his friend, die?

And if he did, could he live with himself after it was over?

There was only one answer.

But he couldn't risk the lives of his knights, as well as those of his people, for a single man.

He had to do something.

He locked eyes with Merlin, seeing the fear written all over his face - it wasn't fear for his own wellbeing, but for that of his friends. He nodded at him, begging the younger man to trust him. The servant's eyes steeled in determination and he blinked in response.

The king looked at Leon, who was standing just behind the mercenary, as a plan began to take place into his head. A single glance to his oldest knight showed that the man had understood everything.

He knew he would be putting Merlin's life on the line, but if his plan succeeded, they would all be safe.

The bandit pressed the blade deeper on the servant's neck and a tiny patch of blood stained the blue fabric of his neckerchief.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, hesitating.

He opened them and bolted to the side, as Leon moved to catch the bandit's arm from behind and the other knights began to fight.

It all happened in few moments.

The bandit released Merlin, who fell on his knees, and Leon stabbed him.

The other knights killed the rest of the men, catching them unaware.

He turned around, the smile lighting up his features falling as soon as he caught the scene before him.

He had tried to convince himself that the noise he had heard as the bandit threw Merlin on the ground wasn't what it really was, but just the fluttering of a passing bird's wings.

That it wasn't the dry sound of flesh being cut.

But it was, and he stood frozen on the spot as the warlock, crouched down on his knees, looked up at him, pleading with his eyes to help him, as blood gushed out of the hideous wound on his neck.

His feet moved on their own and he was soon kneeling beside his manservant, untying the knot of the bloodied and formerly blue neckerchief, pressing the worn-out fabric on the pale neck.

The gurgling noise of the man's breathing was the only sound breaking the silence of the forest, as if the earth itself had stilled while the warlock choked on his own blood.

Arthur tried to think rationally, not to let panic win over him, but it was no easy feat.

Merlin was gripping the front of his chainmail, his pale fingers seeking for support as his life poured out of the wound.

As Arthur met the blue eyes of the raven haired man, he knew that he had to do something.

Maybe the dagger hadn't reached the jugular, maybe all that blood didn't mean that his friend was dying. He tried to make himself believe that everything was going to be alright, diverting his concentration into calming Merlin.

He tightened his hold on the younger man's body and rubbed soothing circles on his back. "It's going to be alright..." he whispered.

Bright blue eyes, wide with fear, were staring at him, telling him that_ no, it's not going to be alright, you prat!_

The servant was trying to say something, but Arthur shushed him gently, an unusual act for the normally stoic royal. "Don't be such a girl, Merlin. We'll get you to Gaius," he retorted, trying to keep a light tone, but being betrayed by his voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

They were both covered in blood, the life-giving liquid continuing to pour out of the wound and fall, at an alarming rate, to the ground, as bright red droplets hit the fallen leaves under them.

Arthur was practically hugging his friend, not giving a damn about his knights' opinions.

Leon was riding back to Camelot, desperate to reach the physician, hoping to save the young servant. The knight felt guilty, having been the one who had removed the bandit's weapon from Merlin's neck, but not quickly enough to stop the dagger from doing its work.

Indeed, it was his hand that had ultimately caused the terrible incident to occur, but the idea had been Arthur's.

If Leon felt guilty, how was the king supposed to feel?

As he tried to calm his manservant, he felt Gwaine's eyes staring at him. The knight blamed Arthur, but understood that he hadn't had another choice.

Elyan and Percival had gone to fetch the necessary things to treat a wound, mostly water from a nearby river to clean the cut and avoid infection.

All Arthur could do was try to stem the blood flow and stay with Merlin.

He was beginning to suspect that the jugular _had_ been sliced, but he wouldn't admit it to himself, not bearing the thought of losing his best friend.

"Merlin?" he called softly. The young man's eyes focused on his face, as he tried to stay awake.

"It's going to be alright. We're going home. You just have to stay calm, and you'll be in your bed before you know it," he said, trying to soothe the wounded man.

"Think about it. Camelot, welcoming us... The streets full of working people and laughing children. Gaius will whack you on the back of the head, telling you that you're a clumsy idiot for falling in the hands of that bad smelling bandit. He won't let you leave your bed until you recover, and you'll hate it even more than going out on patrols. Guinevere will hug the life out of you, but then you'll tell her that you can't breathe and she'll leave you alone. But you'll have to listen to her confusing ramble about you having to be more careful and to stop making her worry," he said, smiling at the thought of his beautiful Gwen.

Merlin had closed his eyes, imagining all the things his master was saying, a dreamy expression on his face as his breathing became steadier, less panicked, even if still accompanied by gurgling chokes.

A thin line of blood left his lips and Arthur became more frantic in his reassurances. "I'll give you a day off. Two, maybe, but you'll have to muck the stables twice when you're back to work. Come on, Merlin, it's not that bad. And then..."

He stopped as a hand gripped weakly his arm. He looked down to find his servant staring at him amused, his eyebrow raised in a perfect Gaius' "eyebrow of doom" (Merlin's words) imitation.

He chuckled. "I'm babbling, ain't I?"

The warlock blinked in response, mouthing "Gwen" with his bloodless lips.

He snorted. "Worse than Gwen, you say? Don't exaggerate, you idiot. No one compares to Gwen."

Merlin rolled his eyes and gave him a smile, before closing his eyes.

A gasp caught the king's attention. He raised his head to find Gwaine's scared and confused eyes looking at him. "Is he...?"

He shook his head. "He's just unconscious. Come on, let's bring him home."

* * *

Merlin knew that the wound was deep, probably fatal. The dagger had sliced his jugular and he was losing an alarming amount of blood. A part of it had probably entered his larynx, as he had almost immediately begun to choke on it.

He was panicking, not enough breath reaching his lungs, and was close to blacking out. He knew that if he passed out, he would probably die, therefore he tried to focus on Arthur's scared face.

His king was trying to calm him and, against all odds, it was working.

He began to think more clearly and reached for his magic, feeling its warm presence in his chest. He left it to take care of the wound. The cut wouldn't close completely, but the internal damage would be healed.

The blood loss could still endanger his life, but he was sure that Arthur would bring him to Gaius in time.

He gripped his friend's arm, putting a stop to his ramble. The blonde chuckled, and he mouthed "Gwen" to mock him, reassuring him that he was going to be alright.

The royal probably didn't catch the hidden message, but seemed to subconsciously calm down, and said something about no one comparing to Gwen.

He rolled his eyes and smiled, before letting himself fall into oblivion.

* * *

Arthur and the remaining knights had reached Camelot in no time, without meeting a single threat or any kind of interruption.

The king was holding Merlin in his arms, sharing his horse with him, a hand pressing his red cape firmly on the wound, as the neckerchief had been completely soaked in blood and was therefore useless.

The blonde dismounted carefully, trying not to joust his friend's body too much.

He carried him quickly to the physician's chambers, as Leon, who had been waiting for them near the gates, fell into step with him. They stayed silent during the short journey, their attention focused on their mutual friend as his brow furrowed in pain even when he was unconscious.

Gwen was waiting outside of Gaius' chambers anxiously, and gasped when she saw her friend laying pale and covered in blood in Arthur's arms.

The old man fell quickly into 'physician mode', as Merlin loved to call it, and gestured for them to place the young man on the stool. He worked quickly and efficiently as always, cleaning and sewing the wound, before covering it with honey to avoid infections.

He went to wash his hands and turned towards his audience, now with the addition of the other knights, who had followed them not long after they had arrived.

Gaius smiled at them, his tired eyes showing how much his ward's near death had shaken him, despite his attempts to hide it. "The wound wasn't nearly as deep as it seemed. The neck always bleeds a lot, but no main artery was cut," he said to reassure them.

The truth was that Merlin should have been dead, and he attributed his miraculous survival to his magic.

Everyone seemed relieved knowing that their friend was safe, and Gaius couldn't help but marvel at how many hearts the warlock had managed to find his way in.

Sometimes, his boy really amazed him.

And he was sure that, when the day came that Merlin's magic was revealed, he would have many friends to back him up.

* * *

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand."

_-Henri Nouwen_


	2. Chapter 2: And Then, There Was Silence

**As I promised, here is the second one-shot of this collection!**

**Title: "And Then, There Was Silence"**

**Category: Gen**

**Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Merlin, Mordred**

**Rating/Warnings: T for major character death**

**Summary: AU to 5x05. Merlin tells Arthur to save Mordred by accepting magic. Everyone would expect an happy ending, but maybe happiness is not a part of their Destiny. **

**Yeah, tragedy will always be my favorite genre. I may or may not expand this in the future. We'll see. **

**I'm open to prompts, so if you have a request, just tell me. I'll try to answer to everyone, as long as it doesn't involves slash or is M-rated.**

**DISCLAIMER: IDOM. **

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**Chapter 2: And Then, There Was Silence**

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He hadn't meant to. Really, he hadn't.

But how could he have prevented it?

There had been no other way.

It had all happened quickly; the cave, the Disir, the spear flying and embedding itself in Mordred's shoulder.

The knights' horrified screams, their fear, that twisted _relief _Merlin really shouldn't have felt - not when someone was dying and not when that someone was a boy, and his kin.

Rushing back to Camelot, while Mordred's fought for his life. The bad news.

Desperation flowed freely through the hearts of the king and the knights, and Merlin was almost _afraid _of his own apathy. He should have mourned a friend, not feel relieved about him being on the brink of death. He shuddered as he thought about how cold he had acted towards the boy, who had been nothing but eager to help and learn new things.

Arthur had begged Gaius to save his favorite knight.

He had _begged_, something he had never done before, afraid he would show weakness by doing so. Kings just didn't beg.

And yet Arthur had, for the first time, begged Gaius to heal someone he barely knew. Be it because Mordred had saved his life and he felt bound by duty to repay his debt, or be it because he had come to care for the knight as if he were his own son, it didn't matter.

Gaius hadn't been able to heal Mordred, so Arthur had decided to go to the cave of the Disir - again - to beg for mercy, forcefully dragging Merlin with him.

But, alas, it wasn't mercy that the royal had received. The Triple Godness had allowed him a choice; the life of his knight would be saved if Arthur chose to embrace the Old Religion.

And then Arthur had asked to him, his servant, what he felt it was right to do.

Kilgharrah had said that Mordred had to die if Albion was to flourish. That he should let him die, if he had the chance.

But wouldn't Albion flourish, Merlin thought, if magic was free once again?

So Merlin made his choice - and, unwillingly, he made Arthur's, too.

In his defense, he had to say that his only wish had been to be free. His freedom, and that of thousands of magic users, would save Mordred, true. But if he could use magic freely to protect Arthur, wouldn't everything be easier?

It is common knowledge, though, that the easiest way is not always the best choice.

Still, the warlock allowed the less rational part of his brain to dominate, and told Arthur that he had to save Mordred.

Merlin was beside his king when he promised to the Disir that he would lift the ban on magic.

They returned to Camelot in silence, while Arthur still wondered if he had chosen rightly, glancing from time to time to his servant.

They arrived at midday, and both of them were shocked when Gaius told them that Mordred's condition had worsened.

Nonetheless, Arthur was the kind of man who would always keep his word, no matter what. That was why he had declared that he was willing to use magic to save Mordred, much to Merlin's surprise and utter bewilderment.

The warlock couldn't, for the life of him, remember why he had done it.

Maybe it was the silent plea for help in Arthur's eyes or simply the scared edge to his voice. Maybe he had just wanted to make Arthur happy, or maybe he had just been tired of everything.

The thing was, Merlin had told him.

He had told Arthur that he had magic.

He had told him that he was sorry for hiding it from him and that maybe, just maybe, his powers would be enough to heal Mordred.

That was what had saved him, Arthur had said. If it weren't for the fact that he was Mordred's last chance at survival, the king would have never looked at him in the eye again.

Unsurprisingly, Arthur had ordered him to heal Mordred. _With magic_.

Merlin had begged him to reconsider, had explained him the dangers of that kind of spell. He had told him that there would be a price to pay. A _heavy _one.

And yet Arthur had called him coward, accusing him of being scared - to be honest, he _was _scared - and then had accused him of being jealous of Mordred, shutting him up for good.

Arthur had said many things he was sure he would regret, but if his words could convince Merlin to heal Mordred, he was willing to take the risk. He could apologize later, couldn't he?

He had ordered Merlin to heal Mordred, his voice low and dangerous, for a second time.

With a deep sigh and a resigned shake of his head, Merlin had obeyed.

It took him no more than a few whispered words and a flash of his eyes. He had done it; Mordred was safe and Arthur was happy. Nothing else mattered, right?

The king looked up at Merlin and smiled, grateful. He clapped him on the shoulder, telling him that he was pardoned and that magic would be freed in his honor, that he would be made Court Sorcerer and that -

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Merlin wouldn't hear what he said next, for his ears were filled with the sound of his own heart beating erratically in his chest.

_Thump. Thump... thump._

He felt something inside him snap. The Earth itself seemed to stir beneath his feet.

Someone placed their warm hand on his shoulder as his hands began to shake.

_...thump... thump..._

His magic screamed at him, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He couldn't get over the fact that Arthur had, albeit unwillingly, chosen Mordred over him.

_...thu-thump..._

Mordred was fine, he would be alright. But Merlin knew that the balance had to be restored.

A choked gasp left his bloodless lips as his knees buckled, not able to support his weight anymore.

Destiny was shifting, changing. And it wasn't for the better.

If the traitor lived, then the savior would not. It was fair.

_...thump..._

Someone was screaming, but his eyes were blurry and he couldn't tell who it was.

_...thump._

He rasped out a soft breath and felt a salty tear slid down his cheek.

The last thing he saw before his world went black was Arthur's panicked face and his scared eyes looking at him, not fully understanding what was happening before him.

Merlin knew he shouldn't have forgiven him, but he also knew that he already had.

_He hadn't meant to. Really, he hadn't._

The savior for the traitor. The balance was restored.

_But how could he have prevented it?_

Death swallowed him before he had the chance to think of an answer.

_There had been no other way._

* * *

"If Mordred is not Arthur's bane, then, who is?"

"Himself."

_ -Merlin and Euchdag (5x02)_


	3. Chapter 3: Only Friend

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed from the bottom of my heart!**

**Title: "Only Friend"**

**Category: Gen (Canon AU)**

**Characters/Pairings: Gwen, Arthur, Merlin, Agravaine, Tristan, Isolde **

**Rating/Warnings: T for whump and blood**

**Summary: Slight AU to 4x13. What if Gwen, worried about Merlin, followed him in the caves when he went to confront Agravaine?**

**I guess this is to be considered as Gwen-centered. *shrugs***

**I'm open to prompts, so if you have a request, just tell me. I'll try to answer to everyone, as long as it doesn't involves slash or is M-rated.**

**DISCLAIMER: IDOM.**

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**Chapter 3: Only Friend**

* * *

She scrambled backwards, as fast as she could while still holding a body in her arms.

A terrified and desperate sob left her trembling lips, hot tears sliding fast down her cheeks.

Her dark eyes traveled fast between the forms of the two men; one standing in front of her, his posture proud and menacing; the other laying limp in her arms, weakly struggling to draw in each precious breath.

Her hands were surprisingly firm as she put pressure on the hideous wound on his chest.

She lowered her head to look at him, and a new wave of fear overthrew her, her arms subconsciously tightening around his body.

"Please," she choked out brokenly. "Please, I beg you."

Agravaine looked at her with an emotionless expression, his eyes steely. "You are guilty of consorting with a sorcerer," he declared. His facade broke and a smirk found its way to his lips. "And shall therefore be executed by the laws of Camelot."

She shook her head, her curls bouncing up and down with the movement. "No," she breathed out. "Please," she begged.

The king's uncle raised his dagger to strike her and she cried out in fear, but he stopped when he felt the tip of a blade on his back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said a familiar voice.

The would-be-killer whirled around, his cape swirling. His eyes widened when he met those of the king. "My lord," he whispered. "I can explain; this filthy wench was trying to help a-"

The sword was suddenly on his neck, and he stopped talking, eying the blade with scared eyes.

"You will not address _the_ _lady Guinevere_ in such a disrespectful manner ever again, are we clear?" the king inquired, eyes shining with barely restrained anger.

He knew he shouldn't have let her come on her own. He knew he should have been quicker to reach her. It was just a stroke of luck that the coward in front of him hadn't harmed her yet.

"Besides, I already know where your true loyalties lie," he whispered menacingly, just before he hit Agravaine with the pommel of his sword on the head, knocking him out.

He breathed out, relieved, and hurried towards Gwen when he heard her sob.

It was then that he noticed the pale and shivering form of his manservant in her arms; his eyes widened almost comically when he noticed the gaping wound in his chest, blood pouring out of it at an alarming rate.

He stared at them, not understanding what his eyes were seeing. "Merlin?" he whispered softly, not daring to raise his voice.

Gwen's sobs were so loud that they reverberated through the cave, echoing repeatedly around them. They both didn't hear, or just ignored, the sound of footsteps coming from behind them.

Whoever it was that had arrived stopped in their tracks, frozen on the spot as they took in the haunting scene before them.

The king was shaking the young man's shoulders lightly. Merlin's eyelids fluttered, dark eyelashes caressing ashen cheeks, before they opened, revealing his stormy blue irises. "Arthur?" he whispered weakly, blinking sluggishly in confusion.

The blonde didn't have the chance to answer, for the warlock's eyes had rolled in the back of his head and he had fallen unconscious again.

Arthur met Gwen's eyes - she was struck by how vulnerable he looked. He seemed so different from _King Arthur_. In that moment, she could see what he really was - a young man, scared of losing his friend and blaming himself for it.

She tentatively put took his hand in hers and, taking a deep breath, she squeezed it, hoping that the small gesture would offer him the comfort he needed.

He raised his head at the touch and locked eyes with her. There was so much sorrow and fear in them and... were those _tears_? Was Arthur Pendragon about to cry over a wounded servant?

Strange. After all, _no man was worth his tears_.

That was what she had heard him repeat to himself after Lancelot's death - the first one, that is - that he had to be strong and that he couldn't cry, not even or a friend.

But he was crying, there, in that cave, because _Merlin_ - the lovable and clumsy idiot who had managed to worm his way into everyone's heart - was dying.

Merlin was _dying_.

That disturbing thought roughly pulled Guinevere out of her reverie, making her realize that Merlin needed help, and he needed it _soon_.

Her eyes steeled in determination and she gestured for Arthur to take the servant and bring him out.

The blonde swallowed thickly before removing Merlin from Gwen's hold, cradling the fragile body in his arms. _He will be fine_, he swore to himself. _I will save him._

He stood up and nodded to Gwen in a silent 'thank you' before turning around and heading for the exit of the cave with quick steps.

He found himself facing Tristan and Isolde, who were staring at him, stunned. "Kill him," he said simply, not even sparing a glance to the man who had been his councilor for more than a year. _That traitor_.

When Isolde stabbed the unconscious Agravaine in the heart, though, she wasn't following his orders, but just doing it for herself and for her new friends.

Tristan continued to look at Arthur's retreating form, confused by his sudden change of behavior. "For a servant?" he asked, turning to look at Gwen with questioning eyes.

She wiped her tears away and inhaled deeply. "Merlin is the only friend Arthur has, and he couldn't bear to lose him," she whispered, her brow furrowed in concentration as she recalled the events that had led to that moment.

Merlin had left their group to distract Agravaine and his minions, keeping him back to let them reach the exit of the cave.

Not much time later Gwen, scared for her friend's wellbeing, had followed him, running as fast as she could.

When she had arrived, the king's uncle was extending a hand towards him, in a gesture that seemed to invite the servant to join him.

Merlin had noticed her and had turned to look at her, startled. That moment of distraction had been enough for Agravaine to step forward and stab the young man.

Then, the traitor had tried to kill her, too, before Arthur had arrived to save them.

She should have felt relief; everything would be alright, Merlin would be _fine_ - she was _not_ going to consider the possibility that he wouldn't be - they would reach Camelot and win against Morgana.

And yet, something was still bothering her.

Agravaine's words kept repeating into her head. _"You're guilty of consorting with a sorcerer_", he had said. A _sorcerer_.

And if she wasn't whom he was referring to... Then there was only one logical conclusion.

Merlin was a sorcerer.

* * *

"You came back to look for me."

"All right, it's true. I came back because you're the only friend I have and I couldn't bear to lose you."

"Really?"

"Don't be stupid."

_ -Merlin and Arthur (4x13)_


End file.
